Tee Shirt
by katelisalyn
Summary: A romantic short story based upon the song 'Tee Shirt' by Birdy from the TFIOS movie soundtrack.
1. one

_In the morning when you wake up_

_I like to believe you are thinking of me_

_And when the sun comes through your window_

_I like to believe you've been dreaming of me_

I wearily open my eyes, blinking away the buildup in my eyelashes. The sun shines through the lacy curtains of my window, and slowly, I lean over to glance at my alarm clock.

_9:39 _it reads.

I stretch my arms up with a sigh, reaching up to grab the wispy bed canopy overhead. My fingers catch on it, and I smile, dragging the fabric through my fingertips. My ten-month boyfriend Drew bought this for my birthday last year, and though it wasn't what I was expecting, I still love it. It reminds me of him every time I crawl into bed, and it's a comfort.

I sit up in bed, wincing as I drag my fingers through the rat's nest of my hair. It takes several minutes just to get my locks into a somewhat normal state, and once it lays down the way I want it, it's past ten.

Once my hair relaxes and I lean back against the headboard of my bed, I can't help but think of Drew. It was a miracle that we met, really. I'm not too popular at our high school, and he's on the first string of our football team. I'm not geeky or stuck up, but I'm not a very talkative person. It amazes me, even to this day, how he managed to get enough guts to ask me out.

I close my eyes and try to imagine what he must be up to right now. He's probably working on his car, again, on this Saturday morning. He promises me he's going to get it fixed by our one-year anniversary, but I tell him to keep dreaming. He's been working on that old thing since even before we were dating, and he hasn't given up hope yet.

Keeping my eyes closed, I imagine how he woke up. The sun probably woke him up, as it always does, and in my imagination, I make the dream he had the night before about us, maybe us dancing or him holding me in his arms like he likes to. He has had dreams about us before, and they always end up being really romantic or cute, which isn't like him. He's more a hands-on, strong, typical guy who loves getting dirty, but also loves getting things done. When he does show emotions, it's not very often, and I always love those moments. I feel like I can get closest to him when he does show that he cares. I know that he hates showing his softer, more fragile side around me, but I love him even more for it.

I love him, however, wherever, whenever.

I just love him.

And I know he loves me, too.


	2. two

_Dreaming_

_I know_

_'Cause I'd spend half this morning_

_Thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in_

I slide out of bed after a few minutes and wince as my feet hit the cold wood of the floor. The chilly air in my room makes goosebumps rise up on my arms, so I quickly run to my closet and grab his sweatshirt from a low hanger. As I slip it on over my pajamas, I instantly get a wave of his scent. I go weak at the knees, and I press the sleeves of his sweater to my nose to make it stronger. My eyes close, and I have to smile. I can imagine Drew now in this sweatshirt with it hugging his tall and muscular frame. His build has always stood out to me, and since we've been dating, I've been able to appreciate his muscles a little closer.

Drew doesn't dress lazily or not matching as most boys in our high school do. He's got a pretty amazing sense of style, and he out-dresses me sometimes. The sweatshirt I wear was a soft blue one he bought from Hollister a few years back that I've fallen in love with. He always lets me borrow it when I get cold in school and foolishly forget to bring my own-but, sometimes I'll forget on purpose to get his sweatshirt, and I've taken it home multiple times. I always end up falling asleep in bed with it on, but it comforts me to have his aroma around me, like a hug from the giver himself.

Garbed in his sweatshirt, I seat myself in the plush swivel chair at the desk my father made for me. I grab a pencil from my Mason jar of pencils and tap it onto the desk. I don't eat breakfast, usually. Drew and my parents say it's a bad habit, but I don't care. I'm not usually hungry in the mornings, so I don't bother with eating cereal or oatmeal or even a bagel. I hate wasting good food just for the satisfaction of eating it.

But, I digress.

I love food; maybe even a little too much. I'm nowhere near overweight, but I eat so much that my father makes little comments about where the food actually goes when I eat it. I just shrug him off. I've never even thought about where the food goes. Maybe it goes to my brain, as I am a 4 GPA student (almost) and I've been on Honor Roll since I was in 5th grade. Drew always says that I'm way too smart for his own good, but I always backhand with comments about his strength and smarts when it comes to sports and working out. He promises he'll make me run laps with him one of these days, but I always beg him not to with silly excuses.

I close my eyes, and yet again, think of him with his own eyes closed, laying under the covers of his bed. It brings a smile to my face, and I grab a notebook from underneath my desk.

I know what I'm going to draw now.


	3. three

_ I should know_

_ 'Cause I'd spend all the whole day_

_ Listening to your message I'm keeping_

_ And never deleting_

A knock startles me out of drawing the rough outline of Drew's jaw. I put my pencil down and call:

"Come in!"

My mother opens the door with one hand, holding a paper plate in the other.

"Your father made breakfast, and he told me to bring you a plate." She says, stepping into my room and handing me the plate.

"Aw, thanks, Mom," I say, setting the plate down and giving her a hug. Mom smiles lopsidedly and nods. In her eyes, I see that she stayed up too late working again, but I don't comment it.

"Oh, and Drew told me to tell you to check your phone. He's been trying to talk to you since 8 this morning." Mom chuckles. I can literally feel my face going pale.

"Is he okay? Is he hurt? Is something wrong…"

"Sweetie, he's fine. Just get your phone and check it!" Mom says, trying to reassure me.

"Okay, okay," I say, taking deep breaths. "Tell Daddy I said thanks for the food." I try to be as nice as I can to dismiss her, without seeming like a brat. Mom laughs, shaking her head.

"Sure thing." Mom turns and exits my room, shutting the door softly behind her. I run to the other side of my room, retrieving my iPhone from the charger. True to Mom's words, there are 35 missed messages from 'DrewBear'. I scoop up my iPhone and scroll through his messages while finding my chair and sitting on it. To my relief, he's not hurt, nor is anyone else, but he was frantically wondering where I was.

I laugh when I see one of his texts:

'Autumn, I swear, if you don't text me back RIGHT THIS INSTANT, I am going to pour gasoline on my hair and set it on fire. TEXT…ME…BACK.'

Still shaking my head, I tap on 'Message' and begin to type.

'Good morning, Drew. Nice to know you've been blowing up my phone with messages for the past two hours. Love you, too.'

As I scroll through the messages he sent me, I can't help but smile like an idiot. I press the home button, and as I wait for his text, I see that he sent me a voicemail.

"Autumn, I know you're there. You're doing this to prank me, aren't you?" Drew's baritone voice greets me, and I try to remember every word. "Well, it's not working, sweetheart. I'm not falling for it. I refuse to fall for it! We have a deal here. I text you when I wake up, you text me back. It's been too long! Hurry up! Wake up! I can see you, Autumn Rae Leighland! I can see you! Seriously, though. Pick up. Pleeease. I love you."

The voicemail ends right there, and I can't help but wish that there was more. I love listening to Drew's voice, even when he's yelling or begging me to call him.

So, I replay his voicemail, just to listen to his voice for a little while, before I call him back.

_This voicemail will _**_definitely _**_not be deleted. _


	4. four

_When I saw you,_

_Everyone knew_

_I liked the effect that you had on my eyes_

Once I have consoled my apparently dramatic lover and explained that blowing my phone up with messages isn't a smart idea to wake me up, I gobble my breakfast to silence my groaning stomach. The eggs and bacon hit the spot, and I lean back in my desk chair, satisfied. My phone vibrates on my desk and I grab it, noting that it's a message from Drew.

'wanna hang out? ;)' I roll my eyes and swiftly reply back:

'Of course. When?' It takes a little while for him to reply, but once he does:

'asap?' I sigh outwardly and run my fingers through my hair again.

'I can…but I just woke up. Let me get ready.'

'don't take forever, tum tum.' I laugh out loud at his use of my pet name, and stand up, setting my phone back down on the desk. It takes me a few moments to dig around in my closet, but I eventually pull out skinny jeans and a loose grey shirt, as well as my favorite black Chucks. In glancing down at my Chucks, I automatically remember wearing them on the first day I officially met Drew. I was walking and talking with a few of friends in the hallway on our way to Physics that day in our sophomore year, and my arms were full of books. He had been running in the hall to catch up with some of his friends and wasn't looking where he was going. Of course, he ran into me, causing my books to fall all over the floor. I wasn't hurt physically, but I was afraid that I would be hurt emotionally later. Drew apologized profusely as he gave me back my books, and the moment our eyes locked, I couldn't look away. His deep blue eyes had captivated me, and the way his face was shaped and the way his hair fell just so made my heart pound. The apologies fell from his lips, and his eyebrows raised in surprise. I could hear my friends and his friends whispering among themselves, but I paid them no mind. He held his hand out once my books were safe in my arms, and introduced himself.

"Hi. I'm Drew Bartles."

"Autumn Leighland." I replied, trying not to let my voice shake.

"I don't believe we've met before." He had remarked, his friends apparently forgotten.

"N-no, I don't think so." I stuttered, feeling my friends walk away from me a few inches. They later told me that they didn't want to seem rude to Drew, and didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Well, I would have remembered." With a wink, Drew walked away, a certain swagger in his step that wasn't there before.

I shake my head, smiling as the memory comes back to me. I pull on the clothes and put my hair up in a bun, remembering how close we became after that. He was my best friend for a year before he asked me out, which he happened to correspond with the State football game victory for our team. I was at the game with several friends to cheer him on, and when they won, I ran onto the field with the rest of the student body to congratulate him. He threw his helmet on the ground when he saw me and swept me up in a hug. After he let go of me, he grabbed my hand and slowly sank down on one knee before me. I put my free hand over my mouth and couldn't believe what was happening. Sweaty and tired, but clearly determined, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I had tears welling up in my eyes, and shakily said yes. He stood up and embraced me so tightly, I could hardly breathe.

I pull on socks and my Chucks after applying a thin layer of makeup on my face, and grab my phone from the desk, my heart beating fast with happiness. I spend as much time as I can with Drew now, and not one minute is wasted. I don't take my love for him for granted, and I know that he doesn't either.


End file.
